Jack
by Azure-Exile
Summary: A popular rebellion in Rukongai threatens the Shinigamis' power in the Soul Society. Rival powers clash, each with their own intentions, and the titles 'right', 'wrong', and 'just' are only for onlookers to decide.
1. The First: The Return

**Jack**

_By: Bloodmist-Exile  
Rating: Med/High T  
Misc: Drama/Comedy  
Warnings: Fairly adult thematically. Open mind recommended. You have been warned.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.  
_

* * *

He smiled at her faintly and hid his shaking hand in the pocket of his overcoat. It touched his weapon gently. "Afternoon, love," he said in his most charming voice, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

She glanced at him, cheeks red with the cold night air, "It is, sir," she replied politely, "Is there anything at all I can do to help you?"

For one second, he met her eyes. "You know," he said, "I think there is, actually."

Death, even in service, carries no glamor. A life well lived, well loved, holds far more meaning than any sacrifice ever could. One should live their life to the fullest and leave it only in necessity. Thus spoke Leader.

As he looked into her innocent, almost childlike, green eyes, he almost asked her if she'd finished everything. Have you lived life to the fullest, love? Oh, I'm sorry, of course I'll spare you for a few days, carry about. I'll come back later. He looked down.

"You are a member of the Thirteenth Division, after all."

Her hesitation was her death knell. "What do you mean?" she replied, barely concealing her rising panic. "I've just gotten into this part of Rukongai. I'm no one!"

Rukongai. Only Shinigami called it Rukongai.

"My mistake, love," he said, gaging her reaction, "What part of Rukon did you say you were from?"

She was so busy sizing him up, trying to see which district he'd be most unfamiliar with, that she quite forgot she never mentioned where she was from. "Z-Zaraki." she said with all the confidence she could muster.

"My," he said, shaking his head, "Without a sword? That's quite the feat."

She bit her bottom lip so fiercely it actually matched the lipstick she wore. "Very well," she whispered, looking around. The backroad was quite empty as planned. "My name is Hideko Kaoru. I am the Nineteenth Seat Officer of the Intelligence Division."

Of course she didn't say she was from the Thirteenth Division. Never specify your Division or assignment, trainees. Always leave it vague. Even if they appear to know, it may just be a guess. Don't tell them anything they wouldn't already know. Try to scare them if you can. Training had taught them that.

"What business do you have with me?"

His thumb tested the blade. "Nothing unusual," he said, "I need you to relay a message, please. Ah, and to your superiors, if I may ask that."

"We'll see," the girl stormed, drawing herself taller, trying to intimidate. "It better be good. I'm not some kind of messenger. I'm a Shinigami, you know, a soldier?"

"Yes," he said, "I know."

* * *

Ukitake Jushiro sighed and placed his papers to the side. He had informants, spies, and agents in every corner of the world – both worlds – but none of them had managed to find any trace of Ulquiorra. That arrancar was terribly persistant. He was just rubbing his eyes in frustration when Kiyone burst through the door, "Ukitake-taicho!" she yelled, as if she wasn't five feet away from him, "There's been a riot in Rukongai!"

For a few heroic seconds, nothing happened. Almost ten seconds later, nothing was continuing to happen. "Oh. Has there?"

"Yes, taicho!" Sentarou screamed, jumping into the room. That wasn't really a common way to enter a room but, as his legs were ensnared in a trap set by Kiyone, there really wasn't any other way. "In District One! You have to hurry!"

"I fully expect Tenth Division to be capable of handling it."

Tenth was in charge of law enforcement, after all. That was simply not his forte. "That's just it, taicho!" Kiyone picked up, "Matsumoto-fukutaicho asked me to..."

"She asked me as well, Ukitake-taicho!" Sentarou yelled for anyone who was listening.

"She asked me first!"

"She asked us at the same time!"

"Well... She was looking at me!"

Days like this made work fun.

"She was looking at both of us!"

"She was looking at me more!"

"Kiyone? Sentarou?" Jushiro interrupted, "Matsumoto-fukutaicho asked you to...?"

Sentarou stopped glaring daggers at Kiyone long enough to snap to attention, "She asked us, and I quote-"

"To request Ukitake-taicho to head to District One and calm the dissidents, as they were unusually violent."

"To go to District One and stop the riot since a Captain's presence will likely scare the mob into compliance."

Trust Kiyone and Sentarou to quote the same person and end up with two different sentences. "Fine..." Jushiro said wearily, his headache returning. He straightened his haori and stepped out the door. There were crashing sounds as Kiyone and Sentarou's fighting brought breakable things tumbling off his desk.

He hoped they would just admit they liked each other before_ everything_ in his office was broken.

A couple of lazy flash-steps brought him, first, within sight of District One and then the mob. At first they took no notice, with all their eyes on the person before them on the makeshift podium, in the blinding sun. "They hide behind their walls!" the man yelled, his voice trembling passionately, "When children wander their streets, utterly starving, where sit our erstwhile protectors?"

"They hide behind their walls!" the crowd screamed.

"As the weak are preyed upon and destroyed as nothing! Where be they then?"

"They hide behind their walls!" the man next to Jushiro screamed.

"They hide behind their walls." the man on the podium agreed, "As the denizens of Rukon, are we not of value? Are we not of worth? Are we not thoughts, and feelings, and heart? We must do something, brothers! We must act! We must..."

One flash-step took Jushiro to where the man stood. "Disperse." he finished. "You must disperse."

There was silence, then the man began to speak again. He seemed to be ignoring the Captain standing directly in front of him. "Yes, disperse, brothers!" he cried, "Don't leave your lives for nothing! In life, there is always hope! The hope of change! Thus spoke Leader!"

He slowly raised his right hand. "Spreading the Embers!"

"Feeding the Flames." his crowd mumbled back.

Then, to Jushiro's amazement, the crowd disintegrated, one by one, back into the streets. He had never seen a mob retreat in such an orderly manner. It was simply there, then, it was not. He was right about to turn to the speaker when a limp, pitiful figure caught his eye.

It was wearing a Shinigami uniform.

He jumped down to it, cradling the poor girl's head in his arms. Some parts of his brain screamed at the other parts to check her for a pulse. The other parts screamed back that there was obviously no point. He closed her eyes; they were still wide with shock.

Beneath the bubbling anger and howling loss, he realized that this was what must have caused the riot. He turned to the podium, but the speaker was gone. He stood and noticed a Fourth Division member running to him from the nearest gate. "Ukitake-taicho!" she yelled, "Who is that Shinigami? Does she have any identification? Does she have a pulse?"

"No," Jushiro whispered. As the Fourth Division member began the futile attempt to save a life already gone, he closed his eyes. "Her name was Hideko Kaoru. Nineteenth Seat. Thirteenth Division."

When he opened his eyes, he blinked. Even now, his keen mind was buzzing. "Fukutaicho," he said slowly, when he saw Isane concede. "Would the wound that killed her cause a lot of blood to run?"

She glanced at him, seeming unwilling to answer such a morbid question. "No," she answered finally.

"Then what do you suppose _that_ is?"

They both looked at the long streak of blood that led away from the body, red and terrible and finally disappearing around a corner. "I-I don't know," she admitted.

Jushiro nodded. "Stay here."

A long, bloody streak from a non-running wound could only mean one thing. The body had been dragged from somewhere. Jushiro wasn't usually the vengeful type but he, particularly, hoped that the streak would lead him to the killer. He'd like to have a word or two with them.

The pursuit seemed pointless as he turned corner after corner after corner after corner. Finally, he turned one final corner and stepped into a dried patch of blood. He slowly looked at the wall before him with an increasing sense of dread. It wasn't the blood on the wall, terrible as it was, that made him take several steps back. Simply, it was what was carved there that made alarm bells explode in his head.

_**Jack**_

He'sbackHe'sbackhe'sbackhe'sbackhesbackhesback

I still don't know what to do.

He's back.

* * *

  
Notes: Hey. I'm glad you chose to read my story. I put a bunch of thought and effort into creating a plot that (I hope) was both fun to read and maybe just a little thought-provoking. Just hang with me because it's going to be an interesting ride from here. I'll update as soon as I can, but I have quite a bit of junk on my plate. I'm also going to try to write longer chapters so that might also hold me up a bit. I always appreciate people reading and I'd love it if you'd recommend this now, or ongoing, to someone who could like it, but that's completely up to you.

For everyone (the few) who may have been keeping track, I'm sorry for the long break in writing. Some stuff came up and gave me a hard time but I think I'm well and over that now.

Fanfiction login question: Are you human?  
Answer: All too, I'm afraid.

Please review.  
Everyone loves feedback, and it doesn't really take long.  
I can't promise that I'll respond, but I can promise to try.

**_Exile._**


	2. The Second: Ad Arma

**Jack**

Chapter Two: Ad Arma

_By: Bloodmist-Exile  
Rating: Med/High T  
Misc: Drama/Comedy  
Warnings: Fairly adult thematically. Open mind recommended. You have been warned.  
Disclaimer: Congratulations, you've caught me at last. I actually am Tite Kubo. Zomg's all around.  
_

* * *

She walked into the dark room and caught him staring at the knife. She stopped when she saw his hands were shaking. The intelligence states, and I quote, the target's hands shake when possessed with extreme bloodlust. Caution should be exercised around him at this time. In-mission this should be the signal for an immediate and rapid retreat.

She stopped her train of thought. "Jack?" she whispered tentatively. She reached for a light. She had to; some memories were just too fresh to face in the dark.

He glanced at her with deep gray eyes and frowned, "Is this knife still my knife?"

She didn't understand, and so she told him. It was the same knife he'd always had.

"I've rebound the hilt three times," he breathed, spinning the knife slowly, "And replaced the blade twice. There isn't a single bit of original material left on it."

She knew he only replaced the blade once by choice. The other time, the blade had been broken at the middle. "Yet," he continued, "It killed again today. Like it had before, you understand. Is this knife responsible for one death, or eight?"

"Heraclitus did not have this in mind," she whispered. "It would be unrealistic to project his words here."

Jack grinned faintly, "'No man can stab the same river twice' wouldn't be quite the same, I imagine."

"No, I guess not."

She took her gloved right hand and gently pulled the knife away from him. "You have to trust in Leader," she said softly, "You have to trust he has a plan."

"I do, Ani," he replied, "Or else I'd have refused."

* * *

"We're all going to die!" Jushiro heard as he strode back through the main gate, "All of us! We're all the walking dead! Jack the Ripper is back!"

He turned quickly but only caught a glimpse of the red-haired Shinigami yelling at the top of his lungs. "Wait! You!" Jushiro shouted in his most authoritative voice, "Stop right there!"

The red-haired Shinigami stiffened at his voice. The man turned and Jushiro was sure that he saw fear etched in the Shinigami's green eyes. Before he could say another word, the red-haired man sprinted away.

It took Jushiro several seconds to register that the Shinigami was running away from him. Shinigami didn't run from Captains; it just didn't happen. He started to gather his reiatsu for a shunpo when several people surrounded him, urgency stamped across their faces. "Ukitake-taicho! Is it true?" a voice cried, "Has the madman returned?"

"How are you going to prevent something like this from happening again?"

"Don't you know where he is, sir?"

"If I knew where he was, he wouldn't be there anymore, would he?" Jushiro snapped, moving to avoid the crowd. Every second he wasted was crucial; the red-haired Shinigami was extremely good at hiding his reiatsu and it was getting impossibly faint. "I'll be happy to answer all of your questions later, just, please..."

His words fell uselessly upon the sea of anxious faces and he briefly considered abandoning caution and flash-stepping through the crowd. It was a pointless thought and he knew it. At a high enough speed, every collision is fatal.

"I want to be pulled from duty in Rukongai!" a woman's voice rang out, "It's not safe!"

"What about the people who live in Rukongai? They're not safe either!"

"You're trying to say that we should put ourselves at risk to spare them some?"

"You both need to realize that Jack is only a murderer! If we can catch him with the numbers on our side, he has no chance!"

"That's true!"

"So maybe we should send everyone out to look for him! Then we can crush him!"

Jushiro sighed and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off again. The crowd churned and frothed, pushing him back in waves, "Maybe we can get him into Seireitei! We always have numbers on this side of the wall!"

"But what if he doesn't leave?"

"He doesn't have to leave! We'll kill him!"

"Oh? And who'll send him the invitation then?"

"I don't see you with any ideas!"

"I can see yours will get us all killed!"

"Well, screw you!"

Jushiro opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by another voice, "May I speak?" The voice was calm and quiet but cut through the tension like a knife. A silence immediately fell over the crowd, many of the Shinigami looking like cowed children. "Please return to your divisions. I will personally inform all of your Captains of the situation. I ask you not to panic or spread unconfirmed rumors."

The people left so quickly it was a little disconcerting. "Thank you, Unohana-senpai," Jushiro said, glad to see them leave. "It's amazing how people act in large groups..."

His senpai gave him a smile that touched his heart, "Yes, but most often when the group is led by fear and self-concern, Ukitake-taicho. Kindly come with me, Genryusai would speak with you."

* * *

"Leaving?"

"Unfortunately," the woman sighed, "Because of that death a week ago. It really frightened the Captains and they aren't sure if it's an isolated incident or not. They've requested all female Shinigami be withdrawn from Rukongai for now."

"But the patients?"

"Yes, I know it's difficult and I'm terribly sorry, Ryuuki, but there's not a thing that I can do about it. The volunteers will have to take care of them as best they can." She gestured around the small, cluttered tent, filled to the bursting with cots and medical equipment, "We'll leave everything here and I feel I've taught you everything I can. You should be able to manage."

"For a time..."

"We'll be back as soon as we can. Be an angel, Ryuuki, it's what you were born to do."

"A devil masquerading as an angel is not to be praised, my dear."

"But even an angel can mistake itself if it only sees the dark," the woman replied. "And it's better to be an angelic devil than an evil angel, isn't it?"

"For whom? The devils or the angels?"

"For the humans in between who have no say." She pulled the tallish man toward her and gave him a fond hug, "Take care, Ryuuki."

Of course," Jack replied, hugging her back, "You as well, Kyoko. I hope we meet again after all this unpleasantness."

* * *

"All female Shinigami have returned from station in Rukongai," Kiyone stated, "As well as the Fourth Division relief squads. The guardians have been alerted and sentry watch is in effect over the entire area."

"Mmy ormered mit mersmally," Sentarou added helpfully.

"Male Shinigami have also been given the authority to release their Zanpakutos in Rukongai. We are hoping that this will lead to less threat on the part of the searching units."

"Mey moud me amle to get mim in mo mime."

Jushiro stood from his desk and paced reflectively, "We shouldn't need to worry about that," he said, "It would be completely out of character for his killing style. In fact, we should have male Shinigami do periodic sweeps of areas with a high female population."

"I'll go inform the men, Ukitake-taicho!"

"Mo! My mill!"

"First thing's first," Jushiro said, "Sentarou, go see if the Fourth Division can do anything about that swelling. Kiyone, don't hit Sentarou with that again and go inform a squad of the plan."

"Mmes, mrr."

"Sir."

As soon as the two left, Shunsui exploded with laughter. "Never a boring day, eh, Jushiro?" Personally, Jushiro was glad that someone in the room could still laugh. That seemed to be Shunsui's talent, making light in otherwise difficult situations. He relaxed and finally started to breathe. "Did you see the look on her face when she hit him? That was great!"

Jushiro surprised himself by letting out a chuckle. He didn't fully laugh, not because it hadn't been funny – it was hilarious – but because he wasn't really in a laughing sort of mood. "It was," he replied halfheartedly.

His friend wiped away a tear of mirth and frowned, "Curiosity killed the cat," he said, "But guilt killed the Captain. What are you thinking about?"

Shunsui's question hit him like a fist. There were a lot of things he'd been thinking about recently but they'd all centered around the same thing. Shunsui was right, guilt did, indeed, kill the Captain. He had known Shunsui for a few centuries but still hadn't gotten used to his occasional flashes of startling lucidity.

"If I had executed Jack back when I had the opportunity," Jushiro said quietly, "This wouldn't be a problem again. There'd be no issue."

"Yeah, no kidding," Shunsui replied, scratching the side of his head, "But there really isn't any use worrying about that now. We just need to find him and actually execute him this time."

"But if I had killed him, she..."

"Do you think you can find him?" Shunsui interrupted, breaking his cycle of self-pity, "Do you seriously think that you can find him?"

"The saving grace when dealing with crazy people," Jushiro sighed, "Is how predictably insane they can be."

* * *

"Today, my brothers, my sisters, my friends, today is the day we must rise. The shackles of unjust rule are around our hearts and our souls and steal from us the ability to live. I do not need to tell you the injustices of Shinigami rule; you are all already intimately aware."

"I am tired of seeing mothers' tears as they fruitlessly search for their children. Of sisters raising brothers. Of no one raising some. How can any man stand with a hardened heart, seeing all these things?"

"I am ashamed, my friends, to say that, for several centuries, I tried. I hardened my heart against all kindness and all beauty. Best said by another, I knew and knew not. I felt and felt not. I breathed but lived not."

"In the midst of the darkness whence I walked, someone came to pull me, kicking and screaming, to the surface. I owe this man my life."

"Leader, the floor is yours."

As Speaker moved back, all eyes swung toward the small figure walking composedly to the top of the stairs. It seemed fitting, Speaker thought, that the revolution would begin, not on a stage, or a podium – all symbols of established authority – but on a back staircase, in the most hopeless section of Rukon.

A small cough issued from the small man. He had medium-length gray hair but had eyes that exuded strength. He smiled, "You'll have to excuse me," he said, so softly some people had to lean forward to hear, "I'm not as gifted with words as Speaker and I honestly can't astound you with my wordplay."

"All I can do is challenge you."

"In this world and in these streets, you have always been told that your worth comes from what you do. You are a valuable individual... if you join the Shinigami. How can life be condensed so simply?"

"There was a time, centuries ago, when I resolved several things of my own free will. As long as there are the low, I am the lowest. As long as there are those that go hungry, I will be starving. As long as there is a single man in jail, I am not free. Live simply so that all may simply live."

"It is in the spirit of these ideals that I talk to you now. For, you see, revolution has always been with, and of, the people. We, the Novus Ordo, are only the tipping block. We will help swing the times into your favor. It is all of you who must decide."

"Think! Have you even once had the choice whether or not to go to war? Did you get to chose your own laws? The rulers who tell you how to think and how to breathe don't care if you live or die. All of their actions are geared toward consolidating their power. If you're an outcast, a loner, a rebel, a thinker, an individual, an examiner, a critic, or an imaginative creator, there is no room in this world to call your own."

"Remember us today as you hear the news. The victory's yours but the guilt will lie with us. Everything we do, we do on the hopes that others will learn to live. The rest is yours. If you believe, truly believe, then forgive us for what we have to do."

"Some must go to hell so that some may get to heaven."

"I ask you: 'Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/ The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune/ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles/ And by opposing, end them.'?"

"Ad arma."

Speaker stood after a long silence. "Thus spoke Leader."

* * *

A/N: Nope, I'm still not dead. My computer died and I just got a new one, so this should be updated - if not periodically- than every so often.  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter (I'll get back to you when I can) and I hope the second chapter didn't disappoint - it's mostly  
just action rising into the main portion of the plot so it's a little slow. Please notice that I'm kinda playing with writing styles so  
that when the story centers around a character you see it happening from their perspective. This is a new thing I'm trying just for this story;  
please bear with me while I fine-tune some of it out.

Oh, and Ryuuki was just a random amalgam of the names "Ryuk" and "Ryuuzaki" from DeathNote... props to anyone who caught that.

Ad Arma! (To Arms!)

_Exile._


End file.
